


What Pronoun Do You Prefer?

by Gemmi999



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, fourteen valentines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-18
Updated: 2011-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemmi999/pseuds/Gemmi999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a well known fact that Gerard prefered to shower as little as possible while on tour. He really preferred to shower as little as possible when not on tour as well, but Lyn-z was very much in favor of regular hygeine, and she often had him by the balls (in a more then metaphorical manner), and so daily showers became a regular part of his life. On tour though, when she wasn't around to entice him into the shower, Gerard occasionally went a full week without a shower. And even longer before doing laundry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Pronoun Do You Prefer?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to jukeboxromeo and for looking this story over in its various stages of completeness. I appreciate it!
> 
> Written for Fourteen Valentines: Day 2 -- Transgender Awareness.

It was a well known fact that Gerard prefered to shower as little as possible while on tour. He really preferred to shower as little as possible when not on tour as well, but Lyn-z was very much in favor of regular hygeine, and she often had him by the balls (in a more then metaphorical manner), and so daily showers became a regular part of his life. On tour though, when she wasn't around to entice him into the shower, Gerard occasionally went a full week without a shower. And even longer before doing laundry.

Which lead to some interesting (or rather, deadly) situations, most of which involved Frank shouting at him to put on some fucking clean clothes or at least wash his ass a couple of times a week, because the rest of the guys were sick to death of smelling like Way family BO when trying to do whatever it was that they did on a regular basis. Bob would threaten him with dismemberment by cymbols, and Ray would thread guitar strings through his fingers and look fondly at Gerard's neck. Neither of them really scared Gerard, persay, but occasionally they would gang up on him, and Gerard would poke around in the different bags of fan gifts before selecting new, non-ofactory offending tshirts.

Most of the time the shirts would be relatively harmless: fans knew far too much about his taste in music, but Gerard appreciated a good Cure shirt just as much as any other Cure fan. Occasionally there would be shirts that referenced different comics' Gerard liked, and even more seldomly, there would be shirts that had political messages on them. Gerard tended not to wear the political shirts as much, if only because Frank would beat him to the pile. And Gerard was scared of Frank's ability to knee people in the back for different shirts he wanted. He did have some self-preservation insticts, after all.

So, one particular day, in the middle of one particular tour, Gerard found himself digging through the pile of gifts that various fans had given him, and emerging victoriously with a shirt that read: "Ask me what pronouns I use." He smirked, swiftly pulled it on (after taking off a rather...dead looking Misfits tee that had once been Mikey's) and wandered back to the bus.  
~~

"Okay," Mikey looked at his brother carefully before continuing: "What pronouns do you use, Gerard?" His fingers were dancing across the keypad of his sidekick, and seconds later he nodded. "Pete wants to know, too. Says that he and Patrick have had a bet going for awhile."

Gerard thought about this for a little while before responding: "He, mostly. Occasionally him."

"So, male then." Mikey nodded. "Cool."

"Yeah, well." Gerard agreed. "What did Pete think I used?"

Mikey doesn't respond right away, instead he taps away at his phone. Seconds pass, and Mikey taps away once again. "Patrick thought you might use female pronouns, something about your womanly hips? And Pete thought that you could go for gender neutral pronouns, show solidarity with the genderqueer fans."

"Does Pete even know what that means?" Gerard mumbled to himself.

"Do you even know what it means?" Mikey retorted.

"I went to art school." Gerard responds, loftly.

~~

Gerard stumbled his way into the back of the bus, cursing under his breath as the damn bus seemed to hit pothole after pothole.

"You changed your shirt," Ray commented. Gerard looked at the couch and nodded, briefly, before walking to an arm chair and throwing himself down.

"Yeah, found this one in the goody bags."

Ray nodded, eyes focused on the screen in front of him. He'd been playing the newest Zelda game for at least two weeks, ever since he stole it from Frank, and very little could tear his attention away from the wii. Gerard and Mikey had even tried bribing him with Chicago style pizza, but that hadn't even gotten a glance up, let alone an actual putting down of the wiimote.

"Something you want to tell me?" Ray commented.

"Huh?"

"Mikey texted us, about your shirt. He said to be extra supportive."

"That fucker." Gerard mumbled.

"So, something you want to tell me?"

"No."

"Okay," Ray didn't even look at Gerard, instead looking at the little horse that was dancing across the screen. "But, I have friends, ya know, that transitioned. I'm here for you."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "I use male pronouns, jackass."

"Defensive." Ray commented.

"Jackass," Gerard agreed.

"Seriously, though." Ray paused his video game and glanced up. "I have no problem calling you Gee, or Geraldine, or anything."

"You already call me Gee," Gerard argued. "And you call me he."

"You're practically a poet."

"Fuck you." Gerard exclaimed. "I'm just trying to show some solidarity for our genderqueer fans."

"Do you even know what that means?" Ray unpaused his game, transferring his attention back to the television screen.

"Fuck you, I went to art school!"

~~

"Hello," Gerard mumbled into the phone, still blurry eyed. He always answered Lyn-z's phone calls, even if he had to pull himself from a half-finished dream about french toast and fresh blueberry pancakes to do so.

"Mikey texted me," Lyn-z began.

"I go by he," Gerard interrupted.

"Um..." Lyn-z sounded confused. "He thought it would be better coming from me."

"What now?" Gerard asked, still partially asleep, but curious.

"You made it into Pete's blog." She sounds suspiciously happy about this, almost giggly. Gerard would have accused her of liking his misfortune, but fuck--making it into Pete's blog was almost an honor.

"The t-shirt?"

"I don't know?" Lyn-z was silent for a second. "It says that he supports his friends, regardless of their gender identity."

"The shirt." Gerard confirmed.

"What shirt?"

"I found it in the goody bag," Gerard began. "Frankie made me do it, he said I smelled."

"Did Frankie make you jump off a cliff, too?" Lyn-z laughed.

"No, but he and Ray teamed up." Gerard whined. "They made me change my shirt."

"And you chose one that said something about your gender identity." Gerard could hear Lyn-z's smile through the phone.

"How could I not? It was practically begging to be worn."

"No, no. I understand." Lyn-z chuckled. "You should wear it when you get home,".

"Maybe I will," Gerard laughed. "Maybe I'll wear that and nothing else."

"Maybe I should wear it, and nothing else." Lyn-z countered.

"Thats...appealing." Gerard moaned.

"It'd be a little big, and hang off my shoulder. It would be long enough that you couldn't tell if I was wearing underwear or not..."

"Lyn-z!"

"Hey, Patrick texted me, something about womanly hips?"

"No, I don't have womanly hips. I'm not Spencer Smith!" Gerard protested.

"Me thinks thou protest to much," Lyn-z chortled over the phone.

"It's like, a conspiracy." Gerard explained. "People keep telling me that they'll be there for me, when I come out, and asking me how they can support me in this difficult period of transition."

"Who said that?"

"I got a text message from Brendon Urie, of all people." Gerard sighed.

"Brendon is always behind you, honey. He likes checking out your ass." Lyn-z began.

"Brendon is interested in me for more then my ass, thank you very much!" Gerard exclaimed. "I happen to have very shapely calves as well!"

"Don't have to tell me that," Lyn-z purred. "I remember very well, thank-you-very-much."

~~

Gerard didn't shower very much on tour, and he did laundry even less. When he found items of clothing that he liked to wear, it wasn't unusual for them to make appearances whenever Gerard was in the mood to wear them, regardless of cleanliness. When he really liked something? He wore it days in a row, over and over again, until people began threatening him with bodily harm and laundry detergent if he didn't change.

Gerard wore the "Ask me what pronouns I use," shirt for four days before Mikey began pleading with him to change. Ray had targeted him on day two, and while Bob hadn't necessarily said anything, he did grimace in Gerard's general direction more often then usual, which Gerard took to mean: "change your fucking shirt, you fucking smelly asshole, or else."

Brian had even called, asking if Gerard had anything he wanted to talk about. Apparently the shirt had made its way onto buzznet, and there had been a couple of questions about whether Gerard was using the shirt as a means of coming out, or just because he liked fucking with people's heads. Brian assumed it was the later, but he wanted to be sure he was giving the right answers. He never could tell with Gerard, and Gerard had liked to crossdress a bit during college...

So, when day 5 rolled around, Gerard gave in to the subtle hints and changed his shirt. He carefully took his "Ask me what pronouns I use?," shirt off, and tugged on some black monstrosity he'd stolen from Bob's bag. Bob always had clean clothing, and he probably wouldn't mind Gerard borrowing it too much. Besides, he'd been the one that was grimacing in Gerard's direction, and Gerard had a sensitive soul. He didn't like being grimaced at.

Gerard carefully took his dirty shirt and placed it into Bob's laundry bag, under the assumption that it would eventually get washed and returned to its rightful owner. Or at least, if Bob wore it, that Pete would get off Gerard's back about accepting his true identity, and knowing that Zie was a perfectly acceptable pronoun, and Gerard just had to say the word and the entire blogosphere would be seen supporting him.

Gerard didn't necessarily want the entire blogosphere supporting his right to use male pronouns, he just wanted to make people think. Plus? He was fairly sure that Lyn-z would look fucking hot in that shirt, and nothing else. And those memories were enough to keep anybody warm at night, not that anybody would be thinking that, but Gerard. Those memories were enough to keep Gerard warm at night. Mmmmm, warm.

~~

"Hey, you did laundry!" Gerard smiled at Bob happily before pressing his nose into Bob's armpit and smelling the clean laundry scent. He breathed deeply a couple of times before stepping backwards. "Can I have my shirt?"

"Your shirt?" Bob looked at him, confused.

"Yeah," Gerard nodded, happy that his plan had worked out. "I put my genderqueer shirt in your dirty laundry bag. You washed it for me, so I can wear it again!"

"Um," Bob looked at Gerard carefully. "Are you sure? Because it wasn't in there."

Gerard nodded at him, solemnly. "I put it in extra carefully, and even folded it, to make sure that it wouldn't fall out."

"That's good," Bob smiled at Gerard. "Let me go through my laundry and find it for you, then."

"Thanks!"

"None of my friends in art school did my laundry for me." Gerard smiled at Bob. "You're really great."

~~

"He fucking wants his shirt back, Iero!" Bob whispered fiercely at Frank, trying to keep his voice down, to make sure that Gerard didn't hear him. "He asked me for it, and thanked me for washing it!"

"But you didn't wash it," Frank muttered, confused. "You threw it away, said it was stinking up your dirty clothing."

"I didn't say that," Bob exclaimed. "You said that when you were digging through my dirty clothes, looking for a shirt to wear!"

"Oh yeah," Frank smiled at the memory.

"And now Gerard wants his shirt back!"

"Oh," Frank paused for a second. "Tell him the dryer monster ate it. That's what I'd do."

"He's not 5, Frank. He knows that the dryer monster doesn't exist."

"How many socks have you lost, Bryer? Fuck, the dryer monster doesn't exist. You must be high or something."

"Yeah, well, socks are a little different then your band-mates favorite shirt that he trusted you to wash."

"Without even asking, dude."

"Yeah," Bob agrees. "Dryer monster, huh?"

"Come on, I'll explain. He'd take one look at your guilty eyes and know instantly."

~~

"Okay," Gerard nodded at Frank and Bob. "I understand."

"Fuck, we're sorry Gee. It's just--the dryer monster..."

"No, seriously. It's alright, I understand. Mikey lost a lot of my shirts to the dryer monster. It must hate me or something."

"Really?" Bob gulped, feeling more guilty by the second.

"Yeah, I even had this sweet Fall Out Boy shirt that I stole from Pete, and it just disappeared when Mikey was doing laundry a few months ago. He told me about the dryer monster, too." Gerard looked at Bob suspiciously for a second, before continuing: "of course, he started wearing it a few weeks later. Didn't even look guilty." Gerard shook his head. "If you just wanted the shirt, Bob, you should have said!"

"I ah..."

"I mean, I'll totally support you. I went to art school, after all."

"But..."

"And it really does make sense, when I think about it." Gerard was smiling widely now. "So, what pronoun do you prefer?"


End file.
